A Theft from the Forest
by Vibrant Filly
Summary: A young Lupe has gained the trust of one. She, in turn, cares for him. Suddenly, she disappears during the night. Will he find her again? (I plan on submitting this to the NT sometime, too)


Menorice, a youthful, lean Fire Lupe, padded in slow circles, restlessness flickering in the depths of his shifty eyes. There was another glint alongside his unease: a flicker of savage ferocity. A slight growl rumbled from within his lean chest, and he stopped, looking between the trees. Thick, redwood trees circled him, forming something like a thousand-barred cage that never ended. Yet the trees were far enough apart that he could easily slip through. If he wanted. But he had been told to wait, and wait it what he would do. He would fight down the urge to bolt into the woods, his ebony nose to the ground in search of his companion.  
  
A howl echoed through the trees, but not a howl of a Lupe. No, this was a howl of a human. Flame-tipped ears pricked to the sound, identifying his companion's familiar call. His own howl ricocheted from tree to tree, echoing eerily in the depths of the night.  
  
Several minutes of patient waiting after the howls awarded Menorice with the arrival of his companion. She emerged from the thick soup of shadows between the trees, her pale skin almost glowing in the lack of light. Known publicly by the name of her father, a well-known necromancer, she kept her own identity private, often resorting to hiding her face with the hood of her unusual dress when venturing into the cities of Neopia. But he knew her name. He knew almost everything about her. She was Menarae, daughter of Tanrioth, a dancer by trade. Her father never spoke; he was a sullen man, withdrawn and gaunt, full of secrets, both terrifying and shameful. Yet, Menarae spoke more than he, though she was commonly silent herself. She chose to communicate through her movements, her dancing, and her music.  
  
The dress she wore was of her own design, as she had once told him. Fashioned from a lightweight canvas material, lined with cotton, it was comfortable, yet suitable for both her dancing and her life in Meridell Woods. It had no sleeves, and the bodice hung close to her body, revealing she was slight of stature. A slight intake at the waist began the skirt, which was slit up both sides, to allow better movement for her dancing. Oftentimes she wore the hood up while dancing, her long, slightly unruly hair nestled in a small bundle above her shoulder blades. She was always barefoot, no matter where she was travelling, which made her stand out from other Neopians. Not that this fact mattered at all to her.  
  
Not even Menorice himself quite knew why he had chosen this strange young woman, with her loose fitting, flowing dress uncommon to other women of Neopia, with her past held secret from her by her own silent father. Something had formed an unbreakable bond between them, despite all odds. The Lupe was known to be violent, moody, and anxious. Menarae.well, no one knew enough about Menarae to tell her tendencies. All they knew was, she was a quiet young woman, driven by her own slight needs, and very much in touch with her inner self. And yet, Menorice loved her as a brother did a sister, with as much of himself as he could muster.  
  
Menarae smiled her calming smile and knelt before Menorice. The Lupe happily hugged her as best he could, comforted by her slender arms around his shoulders. "Where did you go?" he asked, keeping his voice low as he pulled back from their embrace. "You were gone for longer than you said you would."  
  
Menarae sat back on her haunches, picking a few stray black hairs from her dress. She didn't look up to meet his gaze, a sign something was wrong. "I know. I'm sorry. I was.held back."  
  
"By whom?" Menorice asked, regally sitting himself. He watched her face closely, knowing her moods and expressions. Often, she was pursued by those her father fought against, in the dead's attempt to weaken Tanrioth.  
  
"By the city guards," she said. "They did not believe me when I told them where I was from and what my business was in the city."  
  
Menorice studied her arms, for the first time noticing a faint tan. "You were in the Lost Desert, then? In Sakhmet?" That was the only city he knew had guards that would detain Menarae and harsh sunshine. Meridell guards knew her well, and welcomed her into the city as often as she pleased.  
  
"Aye. The Grarrl guards are not the most pleasant beasts, to say the least," she said, looking up at him finally. A slight smirk curved one corner of her thin mouth upwards, adding a twinkle to her eyes. Her fae eyes. One was of soft lavender, the other of a pale green.  
  
How beautiful they are, he mused to himself. Endless upon themselves with wisdom that she shouldn't have attained at her young age. "But why Sakhmet?" he asked. Just then, he caught a faint whiff of a new scent. Something winged and scaled, and fairly frightened.  
  
A new glimmer came to her eyes, and she rose, slipping between the two redwoods she had emerged from. She bent in the shadows, picking something up. Something that squeaked softly, and cowered against her as she straightened, coming into the clearing again. It was a petpet, a small creature with glistening scales of lavender and a pair of sparkling fae wings. It too had the fae eyes of his companion, which looked upon the young Lupe seated in the middle of the clearing. "I met a trader, long ago, before I met you, that offered to sell me her. He met me in Sakhmet, where he is currently residing, and made me a deal. She answers to Fallevin, though you may call her whatever you wish," Menarae said, placing the timid petpet on the grass in front of Menorice.  
  
He bent his head, sniffing the tiny creature gently. "She is a Krawk, is she not?" he asked, still inspecting her.  
  
"Aye, she is. And a fine one she is, too," she answered. "Do you like her?"  
  
"Yes, very much," Menorice said, rising to nuzzle his human companion's hand. "Thank you, Menarae. I think I shall keep her name Fallevin, since she answers to it already." He cocked his head slightly, watching as the fae creature regarded him warily. "But why is she so frightened of me?"  
  
"She is quite young, and very sheltered for a Krawk. You, on the other hand, are practically wild. Be gentle with her, and she'll grow to love you in return."  
  
He nodded wordlessly, and slowly moved to lie down beside his new petpet.  
  
Menarae smiled softly to herself, and kept watch over the two until they fell into slumber, Fallevin curled into the soft, warm bulk of Menorice, no longer frightened for the time being. The slightest of sounds beyond the redwood border caught her attention, and she frowned, rising silently to her feet. Bare-footed, she made hardly a sound as she padded toward the mysterious shadows lurking behind the trees. She could smell no rotting flesh, ruling out the dead creatures her father fought that commonly came after her. What could it be? She wondered to herself, stepping out of the protective border of the redwoods.  
  
A small shadow shifted, startling her slightly. Absently, she brushed a stray strand of long, unruly mousy-brown hair from her forehead, realizing darkly that with her light skin and clothing, she could easily be seen. Another step and she felt something warm, wet, and slightly sticky beneath her bare sole. She grimaced, catching the scent of blood, hot and metallic in the back of her throat.  
  
A hand clamped suddenly onto her mouth, muffling the scream that followed. It seemed several individuals were upon her, and ropes were quickly bound around her ankles and wrists. A swift blow to the back of her head was followed by a short burst of pain, and complete and utter blackness. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Menorice yawned, coming awake early in the morning, as he always did. His thick, flamed fur was soaked with dew. A slight smile crept across his maw at the feel of Fallevin's small body pressed to his. He yawned again, looking around the small clearing. "Menarae?" he called, standing suddenly. Fallevin squeaked in protest, her sleepy eyes staring up at the lean Lupe. "Menarae!" he shouted, this time disturbing several small birds in the treetops above him. They chirped and whistled in distaste, fluttering off to find a more peaceful resting spot. Menorice grew panicked when he received no answer. She never ran off in the morning without waking him to say where she was going. Never.  
  
He looked down at the sleepy little Fallevin, and said, "We're leaving. Menarae is gone. We have to find her!" He put his nose to the ground, and searched for her scent. He found it, but it wasn't fresh. She had disappeared long before the dew had gathered on the grass. Fallevin whimpered, fluttering her wings as she made a tired effort to follow him. He stopped, a slight twinge tugging at his heart. "Come, you can ride on my back," he said, his voice softened. She smiled at him, and fluttered over to land on his shoulders. She wasn't heavy, but she was so tired, she couldn't muster the energy to fly very far. Menorice again put his nose to the ground, and followed her faint scent off between the trees.  
  
A large puddle of blood had dried on the grass, turning it a sickly shade of reddish-brown. He suspected someone had poured it there, as there was no blood spatter on the surrounding foliage, and no body to loose the blood onto the ground, and no trail from an injured person or pet. He caught the cold scent of pure, unbridled fear mixed with Menarae's scent, along with what smelled like several Grundos. Fear rose in him, and he carefully followed the trail left behind by the Grundos, which had also faded with the falling of the dew.  
  
He would find her, even if he had to walk all over Neopia.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Author's Notes: Yay! I'm back! Okay, I just have a really big headache and Neopets is down for the moment.and I don't have the will to do anything else. Please R&R! Thanks for reading, and if you ever want to RP, you can Neomail me at the username tanrioth! 


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